


first impressions

by lesprita



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, F/M, First Meetings, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 05:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesprita/pseuds/lesprita
Summary: They’re called water spirits in Wakanda, revered to the point of mysticism in the country side, but other parts of the world call them “mermaids.”T’Challa didn’t think he’d ever see one in his lifetime.





	first impressions

**Author's Note:**

> i just really wanted a mermaid au.

They’re called water spirits in Wakanda, revered to the point of mysticism in the country side, but other parts of the world call them “mermaids.” T’Challa didn’t think he’d ever see one in his lifetime––his great-grandfather was the last known king to personally see one in a century. He assumed they were just stories. 

T’Challa kneels down by the fishing boat’s edge, as the water spirit pokes her head above the water’s surface. “I’m not going to harm you,” he says, in the dialect of the River Tribe. “Do you know who I am?”

At first, he only sees the reddish-brown of her bantu knots and the white and red marks of nobility on her skin. Then she raises her head and he can see the rest of her calm frown.

“I do,” she replies, moving closer to T’Challa’s boat. “You’re the appointed Kumkani.”

“That’s correct.”

“Bast chose… young,” she observes dubiously. 

T’Challa tries not to feel defensive and he’s glad the Panther Habit hides it when he fails. “And found me worthy,” he counters. 

“Of course. I suppose I know why you’re here,” the water spirit says. 

“Yes. Nigandan and Wakandan fishermen are going missing.” The Kada River is a large body of water that’s reminiscent to that of the Amazon River. There’s enough danger as it is without people worrying about water spirits luring fishermen to their deaths. He can see why––they’re as beautiful as the stories warned. Her skin shines in the sun’s light.

“And you think it was my people,” she surmises. 

T’Challa hesitates. One didn’t know the tempers of an unknown spirit. Offending one can be dangerous and all the vibranium in the country wouldn’t protect him. He had to diplomatic, if not smart. “I’m only here to find the culprits,” he replies at length.

She folds her arms on the ridge of his boat, resting her chin on her hands. He can see the webbing between her fingers and the gills on her neck. 

“The scent led me here,” he continues when she stares. “But these waters are vast.” 

“How very perceptive of you, Kumkani.” 

T’Challa clears his throat; the stories didn’t say they were so sarcastic. “Many people of the River Tribe believe it’s the work of water spirits.”

“And it’s your right to address their concerns,” the water spirit says. “Tell me, Kumkani. Did your people  _see_ the fishermen get snatched from their boats by water spirits?”

T’Challa pauses. The reports said spirits were spotted near empty vessels and yet, no witnesses for the actual crimes. Occam's razor is a good way to start an investigation, but an irresponsible way to finish one.

“No,” he admits. “But it’s my duty to investigate their fears.”

“Just as it’s my duty to defend my people from baseless accusations,” the water spirit says. He stiffens at the barbed words. “It’s been years since we killed any land dweller. Why start now?”

“Overfishing,” T’Challa answers, more to himself than to the water spirit. From his wrist he projects a holographic map of the Kada River reflecting the surrounding settlements that lead to the city of Birnin Djata, where the River sect reside. The water spirit moves closer, stunned.

“We’ve had reports of overfishing a few months ago,” T’Challa explains. “And less produce in the markets. I’ve sent Border security to address the problem and I was told a solution has been found…”

“Then you were misled,” she cuts in. 

“I know,” T’Challa says. “I became aware of that at the start of my investigation.” 

The water spirit wilts and it appears so human-like in T’Challa’s eyes. “It’s gotten worse. We only frightened fishermen back to their homes, but never drowned them. Now the land dwellers fear us too much.”

T’Challa frowns. “Wouldn’t you prefer fear?” 

“Of course not,” she replies with a sigh. “Too much fear turns to hate. If they learn to hate us, we’ll be forced to defend ourselves when they attack and that will only lead to conflict.”

And conflicts can fester into a war. That would be disastrous for both sides; Wakanda is not prepared for a war against spirits and by the tight frown on the water spirit’s face, he assumes neither are they. But spirits are said to be tricksters and it would be foolish to believe one so quickly.

If only there was a delicate way of asking. “How can I be sure you speak the truth?” T’Challa asks and doesn’t waver from her sharp glare.

After a tense moment of neither spirit nor king faltering, her glare gradually softens. “My people used know how to live with land dwellers,” she says. Her voice sounds melodic even when it’s quiet and rueful. “One day, I’m going to lead them and I want us to return to that time of co-existence.”

T’Challa blinks and it dawns on him all at once. “You’re investigating too,” he says. 

She nods. 

He sits back on the bench seat of the boat. Water spirits can use magic. There’s no reason to drag a lie this far if she can merely feed him to the crocodiles this river is famed for. It would be child’s play to make his death––along with the other fishermen’s death––look like an accident. But why expose themselves if they’re the perpetrators and what kind of murderers make  _that_  mistake in the first place?

T’Challa meets her earth-brown eyes again, although she can’t possibly see the change of heart through his visor. He presses the center of his fanged necklace and feels the open air on his exposed face. “I would be more inclined to ask for your help,” he says with caution. “If I knew your name.” 

The water spirit scrutinizes him and after a long moment, nods. “You’re right,” she agrees, and dips back into the murky waters. 

T’Challa deflates. The first water spirit to speak with a Panther in years and he’s chased her off. How short-sighted and foolish did he sound––

The water before him erupts and the water spirit climbs aboard, completely stunning T’Challa into falling from his seat with a yelp. Her laugh is lyrical, but not unkind. She extends her hand to him with a polite smile. “My name is Nakia, Kumkani.”


End file.
